The number two signifies many different things. A couple, poop (yes, I went there), a peace sign, bunny ears, and the list continues. What I am writing about today is the age. Why is being two years old so important?
Well...it's not, really. It doesn't come with any new rights or responsibilities, unless you count the impending doom of potty training (Seedling's #2's have landed in the toilet for the past 6+ months. So at least that's one less hurdle). It's not like turning 14, 16, or 18. It's not even like turning 10 and getting into those coveted double-digit ages that seem to come with so much more freedom. People talk about the "Terrible Twos", which, I concur, are somewhat terrifying. That isn't what turning two is about.
Turning two is about not being a baby anymore, and being counted by the rest of society as a full-fledged toddler. So I guess it is a little like turning 18. You might even barf everywhere from consuming too much...cake. This is the most bittersweet age. As a parent, you can no longer say "Oh, he/she is a baby still, cut them some slack!" when your child shoves another kid off the slide. You can, however, use the excuse of the "Terrible Twos" when you are running out of the grocery store with an eggplant-faced screaming child, kicking and screaming under your arm. That's kind of nice.
The thing about having a two-year-old once again is the constant reminder of how quickly things progressed after age two. How much their language advances. When they start to understand and enjoy sleep a little more. The way they play and carry out conversations with other children. Their physical strengths, and they ways in which they learn to move differently. All of a sudden, those years start to fly by even more rapidly.
Two makes me long for another child who isn't yet two. It makes me so proud of the ones that I have, and how much love and light they have brought into my life. Two makes me painfully remember those first 6 months and how little I was actually present in that time. It makes me want to go back, and hold that screaming baby instead of getting frustrated and having to put him down. It is amazing what time will do to change your heart. Two is the age that makes me realize that I will never have another child who is less than two. I will never have another baby.
Not to be a total downer on this amazing day - I am also looking forward to all of the advances Seedling will make in this next year. Spring came late in 2013, and already he is out discovering, exploring, and asking so many questions. Learning to ride his balance bike, climbing new things at the park, falling down and getting back up again, swimming, running, and trying everything that seems like it would be fun (or a challenge...he loves being challenged by anything or anyone...that will come back to bite me in his later years, I'm sure). I am also extremely proud of how far he has come with his temper and the way that he plays with his sister. Sprout is also very happy that she gets less cars thrown at her face these days. Still happens, but less.
Sigh. What it comes down to is really that this day is bittersweet. No other way to describe it. I am proud, happy, excited, sad, and longing. All in the same moment. Sorry if Mommy seems to be a basket case today, Seedling. I love you forever and always, and wish you the happiest of birthdays. I will try to make it the best yet (not too hard, only one to beat).
xoxoxo
Mommy
It's good to see that you're still blogging, Cass. Keep it up.
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